The month had barely ended when Lichi Auto dropped its numbers:
Qin Pro sales: over 110,000 units. And with that, the Civic lost its crown. At first, it had been easy. The Civic dominated the A-class market. Sure, some thought it was a bit overpriced, or a bit thin in safety… but there was no real competition.
Then came the Qin Pro. And all hell broke loose. Haifeng's clean design. Audi-grade internals. A sharp price under ¥120,000. Even the most cynical car buyers couldn't find fault. At a glance, the Qin Pro had the style. At a test drive, it had the feel. And online? It had the hype. Honda was not ready.
In four weeks, their Civic sales plummeted 100,000+ to just under 10,000. At Honda China headquarters, Mr. Kobayashi was losing his mind. He smashed a stack of files onto the floor and shouted:
"Baka! That damned Qin Pro! That cursed Lichi Auto! And that damn Audi tech!"
"Explain it! Why did we tank from 100K to nothing?!" An assistant stammered nearby.
"Honda-san, their price is nearly ¥20,000 cheaper than ours. Customers are switching." Kobayashi clenched his fists.
"We already cut the price as low as we could. Replaced every spec we could get away with. How can they still undercut us?!"
His assistant tried to soften the blow. "Our Civic profit margin is around 30%… Lichi's must be barely 15%. They're sacrificing profit to gain share." Kobayashi went silent.
His whole strategy had been to dominate China's compact segment by stripping specs and lowering prices. It had worked—briefly.
But now? It was imploding. If this continued, he'd become a pariah inside Honda HQ—maybe even recalled to Japan and stripped of his family status. He couldn't allow that.
"We can't strip anything else," he muttered. "If we cut more, it'll be a paper shell."
"Fine. Then we lower margins."
"Cut ¥10,000 across the Civic lineup. And throw in extras—free trim upgrades, tinting, and floor mats. I want blood!"
"Win back sales. Whatever it takes."
"Yes, Honda-san!" the assistant bowed. "I'll notify all dealerships now."
But it was too late. The Civic's reputation had already cracked. Even in the showroom, Civic buyers were asking awkward questions:
"Why's the crash beam made of foam?"
"Why does the Lichi come with better internals at a lower price?"
"How come the Qin Pro feels more premium than this?"
Worse still, Honda's new aggressive discounts were doing something Kobayashi hadn't considered:
Dragging down the Civic's brand status.
Lichi, meanwhile, was rising. Back at Lichi Auto HQ, Li Li was riding high. He didn't panic when the Civic's price cuts hit. He smirked.
"As President Lu said, they won't give up easily."
"But I'm not scared of a price war. Never was." Haifeng had warned him weeks ago.
"If the Civic flops, Kobayashi will panic. Expect price cuts."
"Don't match them yet. Hold ground. Let their margins bleed first."
"They already stripped the car. There's nowhere left for them to hide."
And now? That prediction was playing out, line by line. Civic sales were cratering. Reviews were mixed. Buyers were backing away. The Qin Pro wasn't just winning—it was shifting perception. Lichi wasn't "just another domestic brand" anymore; it was the brand that broke Civic's back.